


Bus Ride

by KennaM



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Gen, God is a teacher who took our phones away, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Prompt Fill, could be considered pre-relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:08:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22056064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KennaM/pseuds/KennaM
Summary: Prompt: “We got stuck together as travel buddies for the class trip and we have to sit together on the bus and we’re not allowed to have our phones - what book are you reading?”Aziraphale and Crowley get into trouble just before their classes leave for an overnight trip, and are stuck sitting together on the bus without their phones as a form of detention.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Bus Ride

**Author's Note:**

> The usual 'I'm not British, there may be cultural inconsistencies' forewarning.

Aziraphale watched the cracked screen of his old white cellphone disappear into the front pocket of his teacher’s backpack, shamefaced. He didn’t really mind losing the phone for an hour – he’d packed more than enough books for the overnight trip as it was. What he couldn’t stand was the profound look of disappointment on the teacher’s face.

“You’ll get these back in an hour,” she said, wrenching Crowley’s sleek black phone out of his grip, “I’m not a monster. But until then.…” She indicated the empty bench behind them, right at the front of the bus, just behind the driver. Singled out from their classmates, who were all staring up at them from the back half.

Aziraphale hurriedly sat down. Crowley, instead, complained. “An hour?! What are we supposed to do for an hour?! Stick our thumbs up our asses?”

“Preferably not.” The teacher made a shooing motion and Crowley practically growled before finally, blessedly, slumping down into the seat. Aziraphale slid as far towards the window as the space would allow. “Read a book, or do your homework. Maybe you could convince your new partner in crime to help you out with that, be a good influence.”

Both the teacher and Crowley shot a look Aziraphale’s way, and he immediately turned to look out the window.

“Or just sit there quietly,” she added. “Think about what you two did.” She finally moved away, to address the rest of the students with her pre-trip safety speech. For once, Aziraphale didn’t listen. His hands were still shaking.

Crowley spoke in a low voice on his left. “We didn’t even get away with it,” he grumbled, quietly enough Aziraphale had to glance over to make sure he’d heard him. “If we’d gotten away with it, all this would make sense, but we didn’t so-”

“You tried to steal the teacher’s liquor!” Aziraphale hissed. He glanced back at the teacher to make sure she didn’t hear them talking. “Crowley that’s illegal!”

Crowley raised an eyebrow. “More illegal than her having alcohol on campus to begin with?”

“Yes.”

Crowley didn’t respond.

“Probably,” Aziraphale amended.

Crowley crossed his arms with a smirk, and Aziraphale felt righteous indignation overcoming the mortification of being tricked into aiding a robbery. “I can’t believe you,” he said, “I knew what everyone said about you and your little gang and still I-I-. I can’t believe you would just let the teacher think I had any part in your-”

“Hey I didn’t ask you to help out,” Crowley spat. He had replaced his smirk with a scowl, and the way his hands balled into fists at his sides made Aziraphale nervous, though he didn’t think Crowley was the sort to get into fights. They were both quiet for a moment as the teacher sat down and the bus took off, then Crowley added, “You’re the one who walked up and offered to hold the door.”

“Which I wouldn’t have done if I’d known what you were up to, believe me.”

“Oh, now you’re just ruining it, angel.”

An unbidden blush crept onto Aziraphale’s face. “What?”

Crowley unballed his fists to gesture vaguely in Aziraphale’s direction, as if that meant anything. “You’ve got this whole goody-goody two shoes act going on. Teacher’s favorite, top of the class, perfect little angel who can do no wrong. For a moment you let me think you were better than that.”

“I-I don’t…. I’m not…,” Azirapahle sputtered.

Crowley crossed his arms again and slumped low in his seat. Their knees were touching, Aziraphale realized too late.

“A-anyway,” Azirphale said, “did… you want me to help with your homework, or…?”

“God no, are you joking?” Crowley was a good head shorter, slumped into the bus seat like that, and he looked up at Aziraphale with the most bemused expression. “Don’t tell me you really brought your homework along on an overnight trip.”

Aziraphale stared down at Crowley, thought about the half-finished essay he’s shoved into his backpack earlier, and tried to change the subject. “I’ve got books,” he said, “if you want to borrow any."

“I can’t believe you,” Crowley said with a chuckle. “You know, I don’t think you’re even allowed to bring homework on a school trip.”

“What?”

“It’s homework.”

Aziraphale stared blankly down at Crowley for a moment while the words registered in his brain. He shook his head. “That’s… not what that means,” he said. “At all.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now if you don’t want to borrow anything, I’ll just-.” Aziraphale pulled his backpack up from its spot by his feet and grabbed the first book he saw after unzipping it.

Crowley shook his head. “I don’t want a book,” he said. “I had music. On my phone. But that was taken from me.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Aziraphale said without looking up.

“You know, maybe you’re not hopeless,” Crowley said, and Aziraphale didn’t have to glance over to hear the grin in his voice. “Could do with some loosening up, sure. But you’re not as uptight as I thought you were.”

“Well you’re just as much of a scoundrel as I thought you were,” Aziraphale said. He tried to scowl into his book, but found that he couldn’t.

He looked down at Crowley – his seatmate for at least the next forty-five minutes – and found Crowley was staring back up at him with a cocky grin and a strange sort of a glimmer in his eye. Aziraphale remembered the look on his face just that morning. He’d seen Crowley trying to get into the teacher’s office and Aziraphale had grabbed the door for him, thinking he was just looking to talk to her about the trip, too. Crowley had looked shocked then, and utterly delighted.

“Well, if I’m gonna turn you into a scoundrel too, we could start by trying to steal our phones back,” Crowley said.

The teacher’s backpack was sitting with the rest of the travel bags on the bench across the aisle from them, but the teacher herself was sitting just behind it. “You’re not going to turn me into you,” Aziraphale said. “And besides, there’s no point. We’re getting them back in forty-five minutes anyway.”

“Have we been on the bus that long already? I couldn’t tell, I don’t have the time. My phone was taken away.” Crowley waved an empty hand around to demonstrate.

Aziraphale pointed up at the numbers on the display hanging above the driver. “There’s a clock right in front of you.”

“Oh, really?” Crowley craned his head out into the aisle to look. Muffled conversations from students drifted up to the front, and Aziraphale imagined everyone staring up at the pair of them. He sunk lower into his seat. “Huh.”

The book had been all but forgotten in Aziraphale’s lap. He tried to start reading again, but didn’t get far. “I do have one thing,” Crowley said, and he reached into his backpack as well. The first thing he pulled out was a pair of tangled earbuds. “I brought an old cassette player I found, in case my phone ran out of juice. But the only tape I have is Queen.” The cassette player emerged next, the tape already loaded. Crowley plugged the earbuds in, then handed one to Aziraphale. “Here.”

Aziraphale didn’t take it. “I prefer classical,” he said, trying to ignore how that must sound to a boy like Crowley.

“Doesn’t get much more classical than the 70s,” Crowley said. He shook the earbud in Aziraphale’s direction one more time. “Come on, we’re friends, just take it.”

Friends. “That’s fast,” Aziraphale muttered, but he hesitated only a moment longer before taking the earbud and sticking it in his left ear. Crowley slumped closer. The first lines of Bohemian Rhapsody played and Azirphale tried to pick up his book again.

This time Crowley didn’t stop him. Instead, he just tapped the back cover and asked, “So… what book are you reading?”

**Author's Note:**

> The Crowley POV version of this fic would just be him internally freaking out the whole time that the 'perfect angel' actually got in trouble with him.


End file.
